


Halcyon

by westsidestyles



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Blowjobs, Depression, M/M, Maybe some homophobic slurs, Mickey denying his sexuality, Stripper, Stripper AU, handjobs, only from Mickey concerning himself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 02:55:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2050884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westsidestyles/pseuds/westsidestyles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian trains Mickey to be a stripper<br/>they weren't supposed to grow feelings for each other</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow hi, this fic has taken over my life and I have fallen in love with it. I apologize for any mistakes I make throughout, and disclaimer I have no idea what happens at strip clubs. I tried going with what I knew, and what the internet knew but hey. 
> 
> I realllllly hope you like it, and I'll try to update regularly :)

Mickey wasn’t sure if he loved or hated the way his house smelled, like cigarettes and cologne. They didn’t smoke a lot of cigarettes, but they did _smoke_ , and cologne wearing was rare. If he had a say in it, the house would probably smell like sex and alcohol, but was that much different?

He rubbed his eyes and lazily got out of bed. He pulled up his pants and struggled to get them up over himself. The sound of footsteps could be heard from outside his room. Mickey sighed heavily before he opened his bedroom door that led out to the hallway.

No one spoke to him when he sat down at the breakfast table. Mandy offered a glance, but that’s about all he got every morning. His dad sat down the newspaper in front of him, covering up Mickey’s plate of toast.

“What the fuck?” Mickey asked confused looking up at his dad who was pointing at the newspaper. 

“That fast food place down the street is hiring.”

“So?”

Mickey’s dad leaned closer to him so their noses were almost touching, and Mickey tried not to back away out of fear, or just being obviously uncomfortable. “So, they’re hiring. And you need a job.” 

“I don’t need no fucking job.” Mickey scoffed and pushed the newspaper off his breakfast so he could continue to eat the slightly burned toast.

His dad slammed the newspaper back down on the table, making the already somewhat broken plate Mickey was eating off of, break entirely. “Put a shirt on, walk over there, and get a fucking job. Mandy has a one, your brothers sometimes help the neighbors out. You have to start pulling your weight, or you can’t live here anymore.” 

“Jesus, okay.” Mickey picked up the slice of toast off the table and shoved it into his mouth before walking back to his bedroom. He stopped himself from slamming the door, that will just make him be forced to get _two_ jobs.

There was no way in hell he was going to work at the fast food place, minimum wage wasn’t his thing. He put on a flannel and headed out of the house, not even giving his dad a glance as he slammed the door behind him. He doesn’t care what the consequences for it will be that time. 

He walked down the sidewalk towards an abundance of buildings, he didn’t know where he was going, but he needed a job. No good place in town was going to hire him. Everyone knew he would either steal something or end up beating up every customer that walked through the door. Mickey laughed as he thought about what every employer must think of him. _That Milkovich boy, never getting anywhere. I won't hire him, Jess down the street at McDonalds won’t even hire that boy._

“Whatever.” Mickey mumbled, he wouldn’t even want to work at McDonalds anyway. He kicked a rock in front of him, out of anger he kicked it harder than he should have and it almost hit a fucking window. “Shit.” His eyes widened in excitement and he looked around to see if anyone had seen. Someone did.

“Close one.” A man in a suit shouted from the other side of the sidewalk.

“No shit.” Mickey shouted back keeping his head down as he continued to walk forward.

“Hey now, don’t get all offended.” The man in the suit chuckled and walked toward Mickey briskly. He walked like he knew where he was going, and his fast pace didn’t make him seem like he was rushing. 

Mickey stopped in his tracks and stared up at him. “What?” He asked as he looked around to make sure no one else was around and they weren’t planning a surprise attack or some weird shit.

“You looking for a job?”

Mickey looked around once again, was it written all over his face or something? He nodded cautiously. “Yeah, yeah I am.”

The man clapped his hands together and it made a sound louder than you would expect. “Perfect! That’s what I thought, not a lot of young boys come wandering around here in the daytime if they aren’t looking for a job. How old are you?” 

Mickey ran a hand through his hair, still confused on where ‘around here’ was. When he looked back over his shoulder he realized he wandered a lot farther than he had planned. “Like 19.”

“Like? Good enough.” The man with the suit grabbed Mickey’s arm and they walked towards a small building. “My names Jonathan, I own this place.”

Mickey wanted to ask what ‘this place’ was, but he was afraid Jonathan wouldn’t want to hire him anymore, since he already acted like he knew where they were. He had to keep up the charade. 

When they entered the building the cool air hit Mickey in the face like a brick wall. It was bigger on the inside than it had seemed on the outside, and there were a couple of people lounging around on the tables, they looked bored out of their minds. It took him a bit to realize they were all mostly naked boys. 

By mostly naked he meant the only thing the boys had to cover themselves was a pair of sparkly spandex shorts. Mickey stopped in his tracks, he immediately tried thinking about something else. Boobs. He thought to himself. Boobs. I like boobs. 

He thought about boobs every time a close call, like this, came along. In a way it was to tell himself that he didn’t care about the penis that was just in front of him, he liked boobs. But also in a way he knew if he thought about boobs, there was no way in hell he would get hard.

“I think we have a misunderstanding.” Mickey said, he held out his arm so Jonathan couldn't take another step. “I can’t… I’m not fucking gay.” 

“Bisexual? Pansexual? What’s your sexuality then, kid. Because you obviously aren’t straight.” 

Mickey felt his heart drop to his stomach. He’s kept his sexuality to himself his whole life, and he wasn’t about to tell the stuck up man in a suit that he was gay. “I’m straight, and I’m leaving.” He didn’t care if he wasn’t getting the job anymore, he didn’t care about not having a home. No one was going to know. 

“Hey wait.” Jonathan grabbed the sleeve of Mickey’s flannel and pulled him back in the club. “You aren’t out yet?” 

Mickey stared at him so hard he was imagining boring a hole through his skull, he tried to pull away but Jonathan didn’t give. “Look. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, only half of the boys who come wandering down here are secure in their sexuality, it was inconsiderate of me to think so of you. If you don’t want me to be the first one you come out to, then fine. You’re straight. But you can still have a job if you want one.” 

“That how you reel them in?” Mickey laughed and forcefully pulled away from his grip, finally. “The ‘you’re safe to tell me things’ speech?” He felt like spitting in his face, but stopped himself and weighed out his options in his head. There’s a small lapse of silence between them before Mickey looked him in the eyes again. “Fuck, jesus.” He ran a hand through his hair, and looked around quickly to make sure he didn’t recognize anyone. “How much do you pay an hour?” 

Jonathan smiled and grabbed ahold of Mickey’s sleeve again pulling him down the steps to the main level. “First of all, you don’t get paid by the hour. If someone wants a lap dance, you get paid, someone wants something more- intimate- you get paid.” He shrugged like it was the most simple thing in the world, and Mickey wished he would have taken the fast food job. _You can still back out._ He thought to himself as he looked around the room again. Most of the boys, well, most of the _men_ were looking at him like they’re the hottest seniors and he’s a lost freshman in high school who just so happens to have a reputation at giving amazing blow jobs. Which by the way, Mickey was sure he’d be absolutely amazing at. 

His first instinct was to shout at them asking why they’re staring at him in the first place, but he was too distracted by one of them standing on one of the tables and just body rolling. As if he was practicing for a competition, that’s how he did them. He could tell the boy, the only one in the room that still looked like a boy, was watching him too. It made his skin itch and he quickly looked away. All of the people in this room most likely knew that Mickey was gay, and the thought of that made his skin crawl even more. He wanted to bolt, run out the door faster than his legs could carry him. His feet stay planted, though. And he snuck another look at the red haired boy doing body roll, after body roll. It’s like he was putting on a show just for the enjoyment of reminding himself he was attractive. 

“That’s Ian.” Jonathan whispered into Mickey’s ear, and Mickey’s eyes instantly dart away from ‘Ian.’ 

“Does it look like I fucking care?” 

Jonathan chuckled and shook his head, then looked Mickey up and down. Mickey shifts uncomfortably. “Come on man, don’t do that, jesus.”

Jonathan just laughed again and motioned for Mickey to walk with him. “By the looks of it, it looks like you care, it looks like you care a lot.”

It took a moment for Mickey to realize what he was getting at and he felt his face get hot with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

“What’s your name again, kid?” Jonathan asked as he took a seat at a bar stool, and motioned for Mickey to sit next to him.

“Mickey.” He shrugged and sat down next to him.

“So will you take the job then, Mickey?” Jonathan smiled a smile Mickey guesses, got him most of the things he wanted in life.

Mickey looked around one last time, he’d have to grind on old men, wear sparkly spandex, and dance around like he was some toy. “Can I uh, work whenever Ian works?”

Jonathan’s smile didn’t fade and he held out a hand for Mickey to shake. “I’ll even have him train you.”

 

An hour later Mickey was being fit for his very own pair of sparkly spandex shorts, every teenage boys dream. “Fuck, stop poking me.” He snapped at the man in his mid 30’s. It seemed so unusual to him that they had their own clothing designer, didn’t they just pick this stuff up from Justice or something? 

“Well stop moving around, and maybe we wouldn’t have a problem.” The man snapped back, and Mickey wanted to say another thing. Something like, you’re designing clothes for a gay strip club don’t talk back to me, but then he realized, he was designing clothes for him. So to not sound like a complete hypocrite he held it back, trying not to punch the dude in the face. 

“I’m thinking navy blue is your color.” The man said to Mickey, he stood back to examine him, and Mickey tried to not feel uncomfortable. He took a couple deep breaths, tried not to look the man in the face, and thought up a story to tell his dad. 

_Yes daddy dearest, I took that job at the fast-food place. Thank you for enlightening my mind and showing me the ways of the world. I could never repay you enough!_

Mickey actually thought maybe he would start to like working here. Jonathan even offered to write him a letter saying he was his boss, and Mickey actually was working at a greasy burger joint. 

“Isn’t that like illegal?” Mickey had asked him. 

“Do you honestly care if it is or not?” Jonathan had asked him back, and Mickey just laughed and took the letter. 

None of the other- Jonathan said to call the half naked males employees- employees had spoken to him yet. He wondered if they were intimidated, or if they just thought they were better than him. Mickey mentally laughed at that, they’re all here about to grind on old men to make money, none of them are better than each other. 

The sound of a door opening and closing echoes in the room, and he turned his body toward the sound. “You Mickey?” Mickey felt himself choke up as he stared at Ian-The Body Roll Wizard- Stripper Goddess. He was calling him that in his head, and it made him feel so dreadfully girly, but again, sparkly spandex. 

“Yeah.” Mickey said back, he stared down at himself realizing he’s basically naked, and he can’t help but feel self conscious in front of Ian-The Body Roll Wizard- Stripper Goddess. Ian was tall, built, and looked so fucking good in eyeliner. 

“Jonathan says you requested me to train you in, huh?” Ian-The Body Roll Wizard- Stripper Goddess smirked and sat down on the bench next to where Mickey was getting fit. 

Mickey groaned internally. Really. _Really?_ Why would the suit douche say he requested Ian. Well he did, but still. Embarrassing. 

“I guess.” Mickey said trying to knock the embarrassment out of his voice. He wanted to defend himself, to scream at everybody in this building that he, Mickey Milkovich, was definitely not gay. No. Nope. Never. He needed money, and sometimes when he was alone he couldn’t help but think about rough skin and low voices. But he was not gay. 

Ian laughed, more than Mickey would have expected him to at something that wasn’t supposed to be funny. “Cool.” Was all he said back before he stood up again. “You look good in navy.” 

Mickey looked down at the tight shorts barely covering him. “What? These old things? They’re my favorite pair, thanks.” He chuckled under his breath, and he smiled when he heard Ian laugh again. Was that… flirting? No. It wasn’t. Mickey repeated the word ‘no’ in his head so many times it didn’t sound like a word anymore. 

“Anderson, you almost done?” Ian asked the man holding the measuring tape around Mickey’s waist. 

Anderson smiled and took a step back. “He looks great, doesn’t he?” 

“Fuck, yeah.” Ian smiled and put his arm around Mickey’s shoulder. Mickey tensed up and guessed Ian could sense it because he quickly dropped his arm. 

When Anderson left the room stuttering on about how he needed more fabric, Ian stepped in front of Mickey so they were facing each other. Mickey made eye contact with the ground, not daring to look up into his eyes. 

“So we should probably get started.” Ian said calmly. “We open soon.” His voice was soothing, as if he could tell how nervous Mickey was. 

Mickey finally gathered an ounce of courage to look up into the red heads eyes. “Can I ask you a question first?” 

Ian broke out into a grin and nodded. “Anything.” 

“Where the fuck am I?” 

Ian laughed, but it wasn’t just a small laugh, he threw his head back and grabbed onto his stomach as if Mickey was a top class comedian. “Boystown, Teasers Strip Club. Did you seriously not know?” 

Mickey scratched the back of his head nervously. “How the fuck did I end up in Boystown.” He mumbled, and sat down on the bench behind him. 

Ian put his hands on his hips and he looked like some kind of weird man version of Peter Pan. “Were you high or something when Jonathan found you?” 

“No I wasn’t high.” Mickey snapped but instantly felt bad when he saw Ian’s expression soften. 

“Hey, Mickey.” Ian sat down next to him and put his hand on Mickey’s thigh. “I don’t know what’s up with you, but it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, like.” Ian took a deep breath before he continued. He didn't keep his eyes of Mickey’s, and Mickey found himself not able to keep his eyes off him either. “I came here at a really dark place, and they took care of me, I know it doesn’t seem like they would.” Ian laughed again, and Mickey found himself fighting back a smile every time he did. 

It was stupid, it really fucking was. He was mesmerized by the red heads body, and his soft personality that made Mickey want to cuddle him or some gay shit. 

“You have a place to go tonight?” Ian asked, his voice getting calmer and more angelic with each word he spoke. 

Mickey nodded, trying to form words. No one was ever nice to him anymore, and it was beyond idiotic that he cared. But it was so refreshing to have someone care, even if they just met. “I do have a place to go, but I don’t want to go there.” He looked at Ian hoping for the reaction he wanted, but also wanted to push away. 

Ian smiled and put his arm around Mickey’s shoulders again, and this time Mickey didn’t tense up at the action. He had to stop himself for leaning into the feeling. “You can come home with me once work is over, yeah?” 

Mickey knew he shouldn’t do it, his dad was expecting him home. He did get a job, and it would be easy to lie. He had a backup plan and everything, and what would he tell his dad if he didn’t come home? But Ian’s eyes were pleading, and he really didn’t want to go home to the smell of cigarettes and cologne. 

The silence was verging on uncomfortable so Mickey looked back down at the floor away from Ian’s eyes. “Yeah, if that’s okay, I mean.” 

“Of course it’s okay!” Ian smiled and stood up. He motioned for Mickey to follow him out the door. 

Mickey slowly trailed behind him mentally berating himself with the words, _you are not gay._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (slight mentions of glass breaking and blood)  
> and again I have no clue what happens at strip clubs

“Tonight, you’ll just be sitting and watching. Or doing stuff with me.” Ian explained as they headed out into the main room where the rest of the men were lounging around. “Like handing people their drinks, or whatever.” 

“Will I get paid for just handing people drinks?”

“If you wink while you’re doing it.”

Mickey groaned and followed Ian behind the bar. “How old are you anyway?” Mickey asked as Ian began counting the bottles of alcohol on the shelf under the counter. 

Ian scrunched his nose as if he had to think about it for a bit before he answered. “Around 18.”

“Aren’t you not supposed to serve alcohol until you’re 21?” Mickey asked and then instantly regretted it. It made him sound so health teacher-like. 

Ian shut the cabinet doors that contained the drinks with weird italian names and shook his head. “No I don’t think so, but does it look like anyone around here gives a shit?” He motioned to the other men in suits who reminded Mickey of Jonathan. They were all talking on the phone or talking to one another. “They own all of this shit. I’ve been working here for about a year, and no ones given a second glance at anything. Who cares if a forty year old fucks a minor, as long he pays him three hundred bucks, right?” 

Mickey wasn’t sure if it was a rhetorical question or not, but Ian looked at him as if waiting for an answer. Mickey cleared his throat and shook his head. “You don’t like it here?” 

Ian’s lips grew to a faint smile. “That’s not it. I like feeling protected, don’t puke or anything, but by like men who come in here that buy me nice things, fuck.” Ian shook his head and put his hand on his forehead like he was trying to force everything out of his mind. “And I like being seen as sexy, and I get paid very generously. I love it here, but sometimes I step outside of the building and I think, what the hell am I doing with my life.” 

Mickey ran a hand through his hair and shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t even know Ian. He knew he had one of the nicest bodies he’d ever seen, and that his laugh made him feel alive, but that was it. “Why don’t you quit?” 

“I don’t think I can.” 

Mickey decided to leave the conversation at that, he didn’t want to feel more uncomfortable than he did. He was walking around in sparkly god forsaken spandex after all. 

“You got a boyfriend?” Ian asked as he picked up a washcloth and a glass, he handed both of each to Mickey. They both started cleaning the glasses, and Mickey hoped he could transform himself into a glass or a washcloth so he wouldn’t have to answer the question.

“Do you-“

“I heard the question, Carrot Top.” 

Ian smirked and leaned back up against the counter, he crossed his arms and Mickey wanted to melt as the sight of his muscles. 

“No, I don’t. I’m not like, I’m not.” 

Ian seemed to think that was more funny than anything else Mickey had said that day, and Mickey had made maybe one joke. “You’re kidding, right?”

Mickey felt his face get hot and he felt the glass break in his hand, but he didn’t seem to care. He let the broken glass fall on his feet and stay in his hands. “I’m not fucking gay, Ian.”

“Hey.” Ian’s eyes went wide and he took a step back holding his hands up in defense. “I’ll go get a broom, you wait here.” Mickey felt his eyes brim with tears, and he wanted to scream. He wanted to throw the glass sitting in his hand into Jonathan’s eye and storm out of the building. He didn’t care about getting a job, he didn’t care if his dad kicked him out, he didn’t care. He didn’t know what it was, but he’d rather be accused of murder than being gay. 

Ian came back with a broom and cautiously knelt down to sweep up the broken pieces. “Is there still some in your hand?” He asked in surprise, Mickey hadn’t moved at all. 

Mickey nodded and dropped the pieces of glass to floor. He felt a twinge of pain that he knew would produce blood but he didn’t care. Obviously Ian thought he was gay, he was in a gay strip club, fuck. He looked down at his spandex again, obviously he thought he was gay. Mickey instantly felt guilty, he knelt down to help Ian pick up the glass with his hands. “Sorry.” He mumbled apologetically. 

“Don’t be.” Ian nudged Mickey’s shoulder with his own. “So no boyfriend then?” 

Mickey actually laughed his real laugh for the first time that day, or maybe even that month. “No, I’m still sorry though.” 

Ian shook his head and stood back up, he dumped the glass into the trash can behind them, and Mickey did the same with the rest of it in his hands. “The first time I asked Luke if he had a boyfriend he punched me in the face and asked if I was hitting on him.” He pointed towards a blonde haired boy sitting on a table who was doing something on his phone. He was scrawny and looked like he could break in half if you hugged him. 

“I bet that hurt, huh?” 

“Shut up.” Ian laughed and they were both laughing then, and Mickey wanted to stop and go home but he liked it more here. Only when he was laughing with Ian, otherwise the smell of man sweat made him want to go home. And… Jack off. Just a little bit.

“You ask everyone if they’re dating someone then?”

“Only the cute ones.” 

The silence didn’t feel awkward, but Mickey was racking his brain for something to say back. Like, _“Jesus, have you seen your face? your body? the way you can fucking move it? you think I’m cute?”_

“Please don’t punch me in the face like he did.” 

“I’d have to think you were hitting on me first.” 

“What if I was?” Ian lifted an eyebrow and faced Mickey. They were both sitting on bar stools sipping on water. The club opened in half an hour and Mickey was nervous as hell. All he had to do was hand drinks to pervy old men, Ian would be right next to him the whole time.

“Then I guess I’d have to punch you in the face.” 

Ian snorted into his glass making the water splash onto his face. Mickey wants to reach over and wipe the tiny water droplets off his face and, shit. 

Ian wiped the water droplets off himself and turned his chair toward Mickey again. “So if you’re not into dudes Mickey, why are you here?”

“Dad said I had to get a job.” Mickey shrugged it off like that thought of the conversation didn’t make him want to throw up. 

“So you came to Boystown?”

“I told you I didn’t fucking know where I was.” 

“You were serious!?” 

Mickey shoved Ian’s shoulder and he stopped himself before he giggled, he almost fucking giggled. 

“Alright, boys!” A voice boomed from the front of the room and Mickey could tell it was Jonathan’s on impact. “Body and outfit check starts now, when you’re thoroughly checked over go to where you’re working tonight.” 

Mickey turned toward Ian worriedly, his heart felt like it was going a million miles an hour. “What does that mean?”

“They’re just gonna make sure you don’t have drugs or a weapon stashed away in your shorts, or whatever.”

“Do they honestly think I could fit anything in here? My dick can barely fit.” 

“Good to know.” Ian said before he stood up and motioned for Mickey to follow him. That’s what he’d been doing all day, following Ian around. He probably looked like a lost puppy, but honestly if he didn’t have him around he’d have no clue what to do. 

He ignored the comment on his dick, and tried not to focus on Jonathan pulling his shorts and looking in to see if he had anything hidden. To be honest, he wanted to punch him in the jaw. It was the most uncomfortable thing that has happened to him, and that is saying a lot. “You’re good.” Jonathan said before moving on to the next person, and the man behind Jonathan said, “Real good.” With a wink. Mickey wanted to punch him in the jaw as well. 

“You get used to it.” Ian whispered before they walked back to the bar. “It’s just me and you working this tonight, there’s usually more people but you have to get used to it. And I can teach you how to mix drinks tomorrow.”

Fuck tomorrow. Mickey had almost forgotten that this was his job now, it wasn’t a one time thing and he actually had to come back here the next day. To fit his dick in the tight shorts until he could move on with his life. 

Ian threw him a sparkly white tank top that looked like it would suffocate Mickey. What was it with this place and sparkles? “You get to wear a shirt when you’re working the bar, lucky us.” 

“Yeah.” Mickey said quietly, but he didn’t think Ian understood how lucky he actually felt that he didn’t have to show off his whole body to anyone who wanted to see. He slipped on the tank top, and it clung to his body like it was soaking wet.

The club opened and Mickey felt his heart rate pick up. He prayed to whoever the fuck was watching over him that he didn’t see anyone he knew.

“Shit, Mickey.” Ian brushed up next to him so their arms were touching, and he turned his face so his lips were up against Mickey’s ear. “If someone offers you drugs, don’t take them unless they’re in a bag, and don’t go outside with them. That’s the number newbie tip and I forgot to tell you, sorry.” 

Mickey wanted to shove Ian off him mostly because people were watching them like Ian was secretly giving Mickey a handjob behind the bar counter. But his breath was on Mickey’s ear and it felt weirdly calming.

“Hey.” A man who looked in his mid-fifties sat at the bar stool in front of Ian and Mickey wearing an annoyingly confident grin. Ian put on a smirk that made Mickey want to punch him, because it was fucking hot, and Mickey needed to stop wanting to punch so many people.

“Want anything?” Ian asked his tone dripping with _Hey, let’s fuck._

“You two.”

Mickey held back a groan, but Ian just laughed quietly and shook his head. “Sorry, not tonight, Chris.” Ian didn't wipe the smirk off his face, but Mickey sure wanted to do it for him.

“You know this bastard?” Mickey whispered trying to hide the disbelief in his voice.

Ian shrugged resting a hand on Mickey’s lower back. “Jealous?”

“Fuck no.” Mickey snapped and forcefully hit Ian’s arm off of him. His mind raced with _what the fuck is happening, what the fuck are you doing. What. the. fuck. are. you. doing._ “I should leave.” He mumbled, but Ian grabbed his arm his fingers pressed so hard against Mickey’s skin that he almost yelped in pain. “What the fuck dude? let go!” 

Ian didn’t let go though, and he greeted the next man with another sexy smirk that Mickey hated, and introduced Mickey as ‘the newbie.’ to everyone who asked. The numb feeling on Mickey’s arm wasn’t going away, and Ian was not surprisingly a lot stronger than him.

“Ian,” Mickey whined. He smiled at maybe two or three people who talked to them while Ian made them a drink. It was the worst part of his day. “When can we leave?”

Ian made a pouty face, still holding Mickey’s arm like it was his baby cub and he was the momma (daddy?) bear keeping it away from hunters. “What? You want to leave so soon?”

“Fuck you.” Mickey sighed trying again to get away from the red heads grip, to no avail. He pushed a drink towards a man in his twenties, nodding at him as he did so. That was about as friendly as he got with most people. There was no way in hell he was going to wink at one of them.

The man passed him a twenty dollar bill, and Mickey felt his eyes bulge out of his head. “Keep the twenty.” He said smugly and Mickey mumbled a, “Thanks.” Before turning away and stuffing the twenty in his shorts. And wow that made him feel like a stripper, but like, well. 

“Congrats, your first tip.” Ian grinned as he slid another drink to someone and pocketed his own tip. He finally let go of Mickey’s arm, and Mickey was sure there would probably be a bruise there later. “A 20 straight away? Damn you must look better in navy than I thought.” 

“Shut up.” Mickey laughed and for some reason he felt okay. Maybe he was high off the smell of weed that was floating around, or off seeing Ian look him up and down every once in a while.

Their shift ended and Mickey ended up with a good hundred bucks sitting in his pants. He helped Ian wipe down the counter top, and they walked back to the locker room together to change into their street clothes. Mickey tried oh so hard, not to look at Ian when he changed out of his clothes. But the dudes dick was in front of him, and shit. How could you not look. 

“You still coming home with me tonight?” Ian asked as he pulled up his jeans.

Mickey’s stomach flopped as he remembered what he said earlier. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

Mickey buttoned up his flannel and stared at himself in the mirror, he could see Ian wiping off his eyeliner behind him and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of him. Fuck. “I just don’t want to bother you and whoever you live with or whatever.”

“God no my family wont care, and I invited you, Mick. I don’t care either. I just want you there.”

Mickey felt his heart flutter, fucking flutter. Did he just give him a nickname? And it was fucking cute and he the way Ian said it made him slip from his tough guy persona. This wasn’t supposed to happen, he was Mickey Milkovich. He scared everyone when he walked down the street, he was raised to beat up anyone his dad suspected of gay. Not serve them drinks and slightly nod at them, or wink for gods sake. 

“No, I’m going home.” Mickey whispered and stormed out of the locker room before Ian could say anything back. He heard him shouting his name behind him, but he kept walking. He knew what Ian meant when he said it was fine until it hit you, and you wondered what the hell am I doing.

He steps out of the crowded building into the cool air. He felt tears fill his eyes and he quickly wiped them away before anyone could see. A couple of men tried talking to him, but he forcibly pushed through them. 

“Hey kid.” A low voice said behind and him and before Mickey can tell him to fuck off he had grabbed his arm and pulled him close. “Gotta couple of things you may want?”

Mickey took a deep breath before answering, he was trying to get away but the mans grip was tight and it reminded him of Ian. “Like what?” 

“Like a big dick and some good drugs.” 

Mickey felt his heart rate pick up and he wanted to run away, back to Ian with his fucking arms who knows all the ins and outs of this shit hole. “I’m good.” Mickey breathed trying not to cry. 

“Aw, come on baby.” The words sent a chill down Mickey’s spine, and he did start to cry. He felt his world far apart and he wanted to scream but his throat was so dry and no sound came out. He collapsed to the ground in the strangers arms. No one had ever seen him this weak, and now a random stranger who tried picking him with drugs had. He screamed again, it came out like a moan filled with tears. 

The stranger let go of his body and Mickey heard him take a step back. “Calm down, jesus. You could of just said no.” 

But Mickey couldn’t of said no because he couldn’t speak. He kept screaming until it felt like his throat was bleeding. He kept crying even when there was a familiar voice growing louder saying his name.

“Mickey, shit Mickey what happened? Mick? Mickey? Fuck are you okay? Mickey can you please answer me.” 

But he couldn’t he felt his ribcage collapse and his heart explode. The last thing he remembered was being picked up by strong arms and breathing in Ian’s scent.


	3. Chapter 3

“Fiona! Fiona wake the fuck up get Vee we need help.” Ian sobbed when he burst through the door that night. Mickey was shaking in his arms, he was still crying but he wasn’t making any more sound. Ian had heard his bitter screams from inside the building, and he would of gave anything to get there earlier than he did.

“Ian? What the-“

“Shut up, shut up. Get Vee.” He couldn’t stop crying either and he didn’t know why. He felt responsible for what happened, and he didn’t even know _what_ happened. Mickey looked so broken and fragile, it would probably make anyone cry.

Fiona didn’t say another word except, “Lay him on the bed.” Before she pulled on a shirt and ran out of the room. 

Ian carefully sat Mickey on Fiona’s bed. Mickey didn’t let go of his arm, and Ian almost laughed at the irony of that. “Hey, it’ll be okay. Do you remember anything?” 

Mickey didn’t respond he just gripped harder onto Ian’s arm and pulled him close to his mouth. “Let me go home.” Mickey whispered in Ian’s ear, and Ian felt his chest start to ache at the sight of him.

“Mick, you have to stay here for a little bit. It’ll be okay.” 

Mickey started shaking harder and he pushed Ian way from him. “It wont be okay! Don’t you fucking understand, Ian? I’m so weak, no one should see me like this it’s just.. It’s just embarrassing. Let me go. Let me go.” His voice cracked and he tried so hard to keep back the tears again, but he couldn’t. He put his hands over his mouth and screamed so hard he couldn’t hear himself think. 

Mickey heard a million footsteps in the room all at once, and a million voices.

“Who is this?”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“Dude, you still have eyeliner on.”

“Where’s Fiona?”

Mickey wished he had the strength to tell all of them to shut up, but the only sound that came out of his raw throat was another choked sob. He felt himself cry again and he wanted to disappear. Everyone in the room got silent at the sound of Mickey’s tears and he hated it. He wanted to be alone, he was weak and disgusting. 

Ian quickly got them to be quiet, the last thing he heard was hushed whispers and the footsteps heading out the door. 

The room was silent and pitch black, and Mickey wanted to go home. He traced the edge of the bed with his finger trying to maybe pass the time. There was nothing wrong with him, nothing happened. He simply cried in front of someone, more than just some one. It seemed like he had cried in front of everyone and anyone possible, for the first time in his life. He was weak in front of someone for the first time ever and it made him want to run away. No one, especially not Ian, should ever see him like this. He wanted to knock his own teeth out and sleep for the next eighty years so he could forget about this night.

The silence was interrupted by the door flying open, the light from the hallway blinded Mickey’s eyes and he turned facedown into the pillow.

“Ian, where the hell did you find this boy?” 

“I work with him, he left and I found him laying outside.” 

The woman groaned. “You mean you work with him, or like what?” 

Mickey felt Ian’s hand grab onto his, the familiar feeling of it made him feel a little better. “Veronica.” Ian snapped. “Now is really not the time to judge someone for being a stripper.” 

“Okay sorry, sorry.” 

Mickey sat up at the mention of his ‘job’, and looked at Ian. He did still have a little eyeliner on and he looked like had just ran seven miles. “M’not a stripper.” He murmured and he was shocked that the words came out at all. His throat ached with pain and he felt like he fell off a cliff.

Ian smiled and pulled Mickey closer to him throwing a blanket around his shoulders. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, shit head.” Mickey sighed and enclosed himself in the blanket. He looked up at the two women standing in front of him who both looked tired and confused. 

“Did anything happen?” Ian asked and Mickey wanted to cry again because he looked genuinely concerned and he didn’t deserve that out of him. 

What was he supposed to say? That he broke down in the middle of a street over nothing? Or was he going to lie to them, the people that were trying to help him. The first people ever in his life that seemed like they cared about what happened to him. Sure, Mandy cared about him sometimes. But that was family, and he would do anything for his family. He liked to think they felt the same way, but he knew they didn’t. 

“A guy tried to sell me drugs or something.” He purposefully left out the part about the dick comment.

The three of them looked at him expecting him to say something else. Did he look that bad? He knew he felt like shit and his throat was raw, but come on. 

“Anything else?” The girl Mickey assumed was Fiona asked. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He scoffed and pulled his legs to his chest. He just wanted to go home.

“Mickey.” Ian whispered and Mickey felt terrible because now Ian sounded disappointed. He was a shit person, Ian shouldn’t be doing this for him, he didn’t deserve it.

“Sorry.” Mickey grumbled and turned his head so he was facing Veronica and Fiona. “No nothing else happened.”

They all exchanged confused glances and Mickey sighed loudly so they all looked back at him. “Look.” His voice cracked and he felt his face get hot. Today really couldn’t get shittier. “I just, I just broke down. I don’t fucking know it was dumb. Nothing is wrong with me. Sorry, I’m sorry. Fuck I am sorry.” 

“I don’t think people break down on the sidewalk for no reason.” Veronica said. She crossed her arms and sat on the end of the bed. “Why don’t you stay here a couple of days, and we’ll see what’s up.”

Mickey quickly shook his head, and the offer made him laugh out loud. “No, listen. I have to get home right now. My dad is probably worried.” That was a lie, a huge lie. His dad didn’t care what happened to him, and he didn’t want to go home. He wanted to stay with Ian, under Ian’s blanket. 

“Listen kid.” Fiona sighed. “It’s three in the morning, just stay the night. You can sleep in Ian’s bed.” 

Mickey turned his head towards Ian who was looking at him hopefully. They all wanted him to stay, and they had already done more for him than his dad would of.

“Please.” Ian whispered pleadingly, and that was it.

“Yeah, sure. I’m out first thing in the morning though.” 

Ian let out a sigh of relief, and stood up off of the bed. “Come on, Mickey. Let’s get you in some pajamas.” 

Mickey followed Ian out into the hallway, which was full of people. “Ian!” A red haired girl beamed when they walked out of the door. “Is he okay? What’s happening?”

“He’s fine, Debbie.” Ian chuckled before ruffling her hair, which she obviously was annoyed by.

“Fuck, Ian.” A boy who looked a year or two older than Ian whined. “Eyeliner. You still have eyeliner on.” 

Ian pushed through them making sure Mickey didn’t get smothered walking through the crowd. “I’ll take it off, Lip. Calm down.” Ian laughed again and opened the door down the hall.

“Why is Ian wearing eyeliner?” A younger boy asked, and Mickey’s head was spinning. Ian had a huge family, and he was trying to slowly figure out everyones name. 

“Shut up, Carl.” Lip said behind them before they walked into what Mickey guessed was Ian’s room. And, apparently two other peoples room. There was a young boy passed out in a bed in the side of the room, and Ian put his finger in front of his mouth motioning to be quiet. 

Mickey nodded and caught the shirt Ian threw at him that had some indie band name on it. “Need boxers?” Ian asked quietly, and Mickey quickly shook his head. He had his own pair, but he didn’t want to only be in boxers in front of Ian’s whole family. He was still trying to figure out which one was Carl and which one was Lip. And who the fuck names their kid Lip?

“Do you uh, have sweatpants or something?” Mickey asked in embarrassment, and Ian smiled and leaned up against the dresser.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed about asking for sweatpants, Mick.” He used the nickname again and Mickey hoped the dark was covering the blush he felt covering his cheeks. Ian tossed him a pair of sweatpants, and sat down on a bed. 

He patted the spot next to him, and Mickey threw himself on the bed. He stripped off his shirt, and tried to ignore Ian’s lingering gaze on his chest. “Look away, dick head.” Mickey said quietly as he unzipped his jeans. Ian gave him a nickname, and Mickey gave him plenty. All consisting of an insult followed by the word head. 

Ian covered his eyes with his hands, but made a point to show Mickey he was peaking through his fingers. 

Mickey slipped on the sweatpants quickly, and they were a little loose around his ass. He made a mental note to look at Ian’s ass the next time he could, because damn. 

The two boys Mickey saw in the hall came in the door, and the younger one crawled into the bunk bed. “Hey Ian.” Lip whispered and sat on the bed next to him. “It’s weird this isn’t my room anymore.” 

“Yeah.” 

Mickey felt awkward that Ian’s brother (was it his brother?) wasn’t acknowledging him, and he really just wanted to sleep. He felt his eyes start to close and he tried so desperately to keep them open.

He rested his head on Ian’s shoulder, and Ian looked down at him, he could feel his breath on his neck. “You tired?” He whispered, and Mickey stuck out his bottom lip. 

“Mhm.” He mumbled and nuzzled his face into Ian’s shoulder. He felt Ian relax his arm, and Mickey thought they could fall asleep just like that. He was too tired to be conscious of anything he was doing. He was almost positive he’d regret acting like a kitten or something when he woke up. 

“Well, I guess that’s my cue to leave.” Lip said and stood up off the bed. “Take the eyeliner off, dude.” 

“I will.” Ian laughed, and reached for his bag on the side of his bed. “Need makeup remover?” 

“You carry makeup remover in your bag?” Mickey felt himself smile like an idiot. This fucking boy.

“Obviously.” Ian said gesturing to the makeup wipe in his hand. “You should probably get some too, or we can just share.” 

“You couldn’t force me to wear makeup.” Mickey scoffed, not moving his head from Ian’s shoulder. Even though, he knew, he really should. 

“You’ll just want to soon enough, I swear. I started getting jealous of everyone who wore makeup when I didn’t. I wanted to be topnotch.” Ian smirked and threw the makeup wipe into the trash beside his bed.

Mickey looked around the room, becoming aware of his surroundings again. He pointed at the two boys already in bed worriedly, and Ian laughed.

“You’re so cute, Mickey. They’re fine, Carl is a heavy sleeper, and Liam’s passed out. Plus, we’re just _talking._ ” The way Ian said it, with that smirk he had given all of the customers that night, Mickey knew what he meant. He meant they could be doing, a lot more. 

Mickey lifted his head off Ian’s shoulder and looked down at his hands sitting in his lap. His throat was still screaming with pain, and he felt sleep start to take over his body again. 

“Hey, you know I didn’t mean that.” Ian whispered soothingly, pulling Mickey close to him. Mickey pushed him away, and looked up at the ceiling. He wanted to look anywhere besides Ian’s face. “You’re the one that cuddled with my shoulder.” Ian said in defense, and Mickey tried to glare at him without laughing.

“I’m tired.” He whined shoving Ian’s shoulder. “I can sleep on the floor if you don’t want me in your bed.”

“You’re the guest, Mick. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No.” Mickey protested latching onto Ian’s arm. “You shouldn’t have to sleep on the floor it’s your bed.” 

Ian smirked, and turned his body towards Mickey. “So.” He whispered. “We can just share the bed.” 

“Oh fuck no, carrot top.” Mickey eyes widened and he hastily got off the bed. Ian grinned and grabbed his hips pulling him back down on the bed.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor Mickey.”

“Dude.” Mickey breathed trying to get away from Ian’s hold. “I just fucking met you, I’ve done enough gay shit today. We’re not sleeping in the same bed.” 

“Don’t think of it as, ‘gay shit.’” Ian said sarcastically. “Think of it as two co-workers who desperately need sleep, who just happen to fall asleep in the same bed. And I’ve had sex with people who haven’t said a word to me, I know you pretty well if I do say so myself.” 

Mickey groaned and put his hands over his eyes. He needed sleep. “Fine. Fuck it, fine.” He said reluctantly crawling onto the side of the bed furthest from the wall. “If anyone asks, I slept on the floor.”

“Deal.” Ian said as he unzipped his jeans. He crawled into the open space, and faced the opposite direction from Mickey. Mickey wasn’t sure if he was thankful for that.

He had never felt so vulnerable and hurt in his life, and now here he was. Curled up in a random boys bed, a boy he met at a strip club. _A strip club he was working at_. He had made a complete fool of himself by screaming and crying in front of so many people. And he wanted nothing but to forget about it.

It wasn’t the first time he had cried himself to sleep, but it was the first time that someone held him while he did. He wanted to push Ian off, but he fell asleep before he could. 

 

Mickey woke up before anyone else in the room, it was so quiet he was afraid to let out his breath. He moved Ian’s arm off of him, and climbed out of bed. He had to get out of here. His mind was racing, and when he looked at Ian sleeping peacefully it made him freak out more. 

The events of the nice before came rushing through his mind, and he ran out of the room. (He did gently shut the door though, he didn’t want to wake anyone.) He wanted to punch something, to shoot something, something to make it go away. 

But then he remembered he knew nothing about this house, and to be honest he didn’t know how to get out. He carefully opened a door to see what was behind it, thankfully it was the bathroom, and it was empty. He walked down the hallway toward the flight of stairs, and carefully tiptoed down the steps.

“Ian?” A women’s voice called from the bottom of the steps.

Mickey cleared his throat and walked down the rest of the steps.

“Ah, Ian’s friend.” The girl Mickey remembered as Fiona said. “Want some eggs?” She asked gesturing towards the frying pan.

Mickey didn’t realize how hungry he was until the mention of food. “Yeah, if that’s okay.” 

“Sure it’s okay!” Fiona smiled and flipped two eggs on a pair of plates. “Come on down.” 

Mickey slowly walked towards the table and sat down at the empty chair next to Fiona’s. “Uh, thanks.” He said with his mouth already half-full of eggs. 

“Sleep well?” She asked and Mickey’s mind flashed back to Ian’s arm over him, and unwillingly agreeing to sleep in the same bed.

“M’yeah, I’m a heavy sleeper.” Which wasn’t a lie. 

“Why were you in such a hurry to leave then?”  Mickey dropped his fork in surprise, and he pushed his plate of eggs away from him before standing up. “I just have to go.” He looked around for his shoes, and then realized they were probably upstairs. With the rest of his clothes.

“I get that you’re freaked out, kid. It’s okay to be vulnerable.” 

“You don’t know anything about me.” Mickey said keeping his voice steady, he felt everything start to go dizzy. 

“I let you sleep in my house.” Fiona scoffed. She stood up and crossed her arms, shaking her head like Mickey was a child. “I know that Ian cares about you enough to pick you up and carry you a couple of miles to his house, because he thought something might have happened. And when it turned out nothing really happened, did he get mad? No he offered you his bed, Mickey. Maybe you should realize pushing him away isn’t going to work, he’s already in.” 

Mickey felt his head start to spin, and he knew she was right. “I have to get home.” He whispered, he pushed past Fiona and ran up to the stairs back to Ian’s room. 

Ian was awake and groggily rubbing his eyes. “Hey.” He smiled up at Mickey, and Mickey felt his stomach twist.

“Where are my clothes?” Mickey asked hastily looking around the room for the familiar clothing. 

“Uh, somewhere on the floor. Is there a reason you look like you’re about to throw up? Your throat okay this morning?” 

“Can you just-“ Mickey held his hand up for Ian to be quiet and knelt down to pick his clothes off the floor. “I have to leave. My throat hurts like hell, I feel like a dumb ass, and I have to fucking go home.” 

“Oh okay.” Ian said. He stood up off the bed and handed Mickey a shoe. “I found one.” 

Mickey grabbed the shoe hastily and slipped it on his foot, along with the other one in his hand. “thanks.” He murmured before he headed out the bedroom door zipping his pants up along the way.

“Hey Mickey, wait!” Ian called and grabbed Mickey’s arm before he could take another step. “You coming to work tonight?” He said breathlessly, and Mickey felt his body go numb.

“Yeah.” Mickey said “See you there.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is kind of short I'm sorry I've had weird writers block ah

Mickey braced himself before he walked into his house. He knew his dad wouldn’t be home, it was already noon, he’d be out drinking or planning murder. Or both.

He was afraid Mandy would be home, and he couldn’t lie to her. They always told each other things, surprising as that might be. 

He walked in the house quietly closing the door, and then ran to his room to grab a change of clothes and a bag. He didn’t know if he would ever stay at Ian’s again, but he knew he didn’t want to be at home. Especially if he ever accidentally left his eyeliner on, that wouldn’t go over very well with the rest of the household. 

He locked the door to his room and gathered a couple of pairs of clothes. He threw them into a trash bag, and pulled the plastic strings together tightly. He felt beyond stupid and embarrassed for running out of Ian’s house. He made a plan to apologize to the red head when he got to work that night. His hands reached around in his pile of clothes to find the money he made the night before, and it was surprisingly still all there. 

Mickey looked around his room one last time before leaving, he made sure to slam the house door on the way out.

 

He arrived at Teasers early, but there was still other men there.

“Guess who came back!” Jonathan said as Mickey walked through the door. “Ian isn’t here yet, he usually comes after lunch.” 

“Why is everyone here so early?” Mickey scratched his head in confusion.

“They got no where else to go.” Jonathan shrugged. “And it’s not like I fucking care.” He laughed and pointed to the direction of the back room where they got changed. “We got you a couple more pairs of shorts, and some ties and stuff. You can put everything back there if you’d like.” He said gesturing to the garbage bag of clothes Mickey had slung over his shoulder.

Mickey grunted a thanks and headed toward the changing room. He tried his best not to make eye contact with anyone else, but he failed.

His thumbs fumbled over the lock on the locker they had assigned to him, and he flung the door open so hard it hit the locker next to it with a bang. 

“Woah, dude.” A familiar voice said from behind him and Mickey spun around to see Ian with his arms crossed. “You mad or just have super strength?” 

“Both.” Mickey couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his lips. “You’re here early.”

“So are you.” Ian laughed and sat down on the bench next to Mickey. “I like talking to the other guys here, and I have nothing else to do.” 

“What do you even talk to them about?” Mickey scoffed as he shoved his garbage bag of clothes into his locker.

“Just why we’re working here and shit.” Ian sighed. “They gave you a tie to wear, shirtless Mickey with just a tie on?” Ian raised his eyebrow and grabbed one out of the locker, and put it around Mickey’s neck. “I like it.” 

“Shut up.” Mickey swatted his hand away and slid the tie off his neck. “I’m not wearing it.” 

“Why? It looks hot.” 

Mickey felt his stomach knot at the compliment, but he just shook his head. “Because it’s gold and it has fucking sparkles on it.”

“Mostly everything we wear has sparkles on it, Mickey. You’re gonna have to get used to it.” 

Mickey groaned but still didn’t give in to wearing it. "About last night." He started, but didn't know where to go from that. "And I guess.. This morning-."

"Hey." Ian's expression softened and he stopped Mickey mid sentence. "Don't apologize, you were confused and hurt."

“What are we doing tonight then?” Mickey said desperately wanting to get off the subject.

Ian broke out in a grin and stood up excitedly. “I almost forgot I’m training you in aren’t I? We’re still behind the bar tonight, but only for half the night. The other half we get to walk around and serve.” 

Mickey felt his throat tighten, and he had almost forgot how much it ached till now. 

“And it could be worse.” Ian quickly added to his statement, and Mickey didn’t want to know what he meant. “I mean, not the job, well yeah I guess the job. But I mean the sparkly gold tie, I have a feather boa.”

Mickey burst out laughing, and Ian tried not to he really did. 

“Let’s get working, then?” 

“Yeah, yeah okay.” Mickey followed Ian out of the locker room, and he pushed away how terrible he felt for a couple of hours.

 

The night was brutal. Mickey didn’t know what he hated more, watching Ian flirt with other guys, or flirting with other guys. 

He had been out of his comfort zone for two nights in a row, the other employees kept saying he would get used to it soon enough. Mickey didn't know if that comment made him feel better or worse about everything.

“Some of them have to do this, they have no other option.” Ian told him before the club opened that night, and Mickey found himself feeling bad for everyone. Life sure as hell wasn’t fair.

“Hey cutie.” Mickey held back the gross look he would have shot at the man that said it to him. “Why don’t you sit around here with me for a little bit, and we can get to know each other?”

Mickey faked a smile and set down the mans drink in the table in front of him. “I gotta keep working.” 

“C’mon.” He grabbed Mickey’s wrist and his eyes desperately roamed the floor for Ian, who had promised to stay close behind him.

“Hey, Mick!” The familiar voice said. “Phone call for you.”

Mickey shrugged apologetically at the man, and got away from his grip. “Gotta go.”

“Alright, alright.” He smirked and suggestively wiggled his eyebrows before sliding a five dollar bill into Mickey’s shorts.

“Thanks.” Mickey mumbled before he hastily walked towards Ian. “Phone call?” He asked confused.

“Nah, you just looked like a deer in the headlights.” 

“Fuck you, I could have gotten some good money.” He said punching Ian in the stomach playfully.  
“Oh, _yeah right_.” Ian laughed and shoved Mickey back with the palm of his hand. “You look good in this.” Ian said tugging on the fabric of Mickey’s black see-through tank-top. 

Mickey pulled on the end of Ian’s feather boa. “And I like this.”

“Oh?” Ian’s eyes lit up and Mickey quickly shook his head. 

“Fuck no, don’t touch me with it.” 

Ian enthusiastically grabbed the end of his black feather boa and touched Mickey’s cheek with it, making the other boy blush slightly. “Get it away.” He mumbled and smacked at it before walking to grab another tray of drinks. 

“You’re doing good.” Ian said over the loud music. Mickey nodded at him content and walked over to a table. 

The younger boy watched as Mickey faked a smile and lightly flirted with the customers. He had been worried about him the whole day, ever since the outcome of the night before. Mickey broke down after one night, but who could blame him. 

Fiona had spent an hour consoling Ian telling him it wasn’t his fault, but it didn’t make the feeling of guilt blocking out any other thought go away. Mickey carried himself confidently like he knew what he wanted, and in a matter of seconds he was crying on the sidewalk. There seemed to be more to Mickey than reached the eye, and Ian wanted to know everything. 

“Hey, firecrotch.” Ian bit back a smirk at the nickname and turned around to face Mickey.

“Yes?” 

“You doing okay?” 

Ian looked down at his hands shaking out of his control and hurriedly clenched them into fists and nodded. “Could you get me some water?” He said quietly and Mickey titled his head confused, but then rushed to get a glass. 

Mickey gently handed Ian the glass and watched him protectingly as he sipped on the liquid. “You need a break or something? I think I could do okay on my own for a while.” 

“No.” Ian said into the glass and handed it back to Mickey. “I’m fine, just stress.” 

“Alright, man. If you need a break-”

“I said no!” Ian snapped and Mickey took a step back.

“Chill, can you just, chill, chill.” Mickey gently touched Ian’s shoulder and sighed heavily. “I don’t know what’s up, but we have to keep working, okay?”

Ian’s eyes quickly looked up to meet the older boys and he reluctantly nodded before grabbing a couple of drinks off the counter behind him. “Okay.” He said giving Mickey a reassuring smile before they both went in different directions.

 

They were both sweaty, and Ian’s eyeliner was smudged under his eyes. They had worked an hour longer than planned because there was a very generous customer who paid them to grind on each other. No big deal.

Mickey was hesitant, almost insultingly hesitant at first. Ian pulled him close their chests almost touching and whispered, “You don’t have to.”

But Mickey _wanted_ to, and he didn’t want Ian to do it if he didn’t want to either. But Ian wrapped the goddamn feather boa around Mickey’s neck and it went from there. 

It was in time to the music and Ian was leading like they were fucking ballroom dancing. Mickey tried, he tried so hard to think about something disgusting. But the thoughts were interrupted with Ian’s body sweaty and up against his. Ian must have noticed Mickey’s dick was hard because he smirked and pressed his leg just a little more up against it.

“So.” Ian said in the locker room, and Mickey knew where the conversation was going. “fifty bucks each just to grind on you? I would of done it for free.” 

Mickey laughed and grabbed his bag of clothes out of his locker, finding a gray pair of sweatpants and a blue hoodie. “He was pretty generous, yeah? He’ll probably get off to that later.”

“We work good together.”

“Um, yeah. I guess.” Mickey said and threw the garbage bag over his shoulder.

“You going somewhere?” Ian asked eyeing Mickey’s bag of clothes.

“Just incase I didn’t go home, I brought this.”

“You know, you can come over again?”

Mickey paused, he didn’t think he would ever be invited near Ian’s home again. “You know..” Mickey sighed as he thought about the offer. “I don’t even know your last name.”

Ian looked at him like he was a world class comedian and burst out laughing. “Gallagher.” He smiled.

“Milkovich.”

So now they were on a full name basis, and they were just supposed to be working together at a strip club. But now Mickey had slept with him in the same bed, and learned his last name. It scared him to say the least.

“I think I’ll just go home.” 

Ian grabbed Mickey’s shoulder and stopped him from taking a step. “At least let me walk you.”

“Fuck no.” Mickey shoved Ian’s hand off of him. To think what his dad would do if he saw Ian walk Mickey home, kill both of them most likely. 

“Halfway?” Ian pleaded and followed Mickey out the back entrance of the club. “I’m not going to stop following you.”

Mickey stopped and turned around to face Ian. “Is that a threat, Gallagher?”

Ian’s puppy dog eyes were burning a whole through Mickey’s skull, and he wanted to run away as fast as he could. “Just halfway.” Ian breathed.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Halfway.” 

“Go home, Ian. Get some sleep.”

“I will, just-“

“No! Look,” Mickey dug out a pen from his jacket pocket and grabbed onto Ian’s arm. He carefully wrote his cell phone number, going over every number to make sure it was right. “I’ll text you when I’m home, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Ian looked at the number on his arm then back up at Mickey, he didn’t try to hide his smile. “Alright, you sure you’ll be okay though?”

Mickey sighed and started walking towards the direction of his house. “See you tomorrow, Gallagher.” 

 

Mickey quietly opened the door to his house, his dad was passed out on the couch an abundance of beer cans surrounded him. He sighed and went to check on Mandy.

He knocked on the door and smiled lightly when she opened it. "Hey." She said. She looked annoyed and tired, and Mickey realized he forgot to check the time.

"Hey." He said back and leaned himself up against the door frame. "Everyone okay?"

"Yeah." Mandy ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "What have you been up to, why didn't you come home last night?"

"Work had me busy, I came home late you were asleep."

"Bullshit!" Mandy lightly shoved Mickey's chest and took a step towards him. "I waited up until three in the morning, Mickey."

"And why would you do that?"

"To make sure you didn't get yourself killed!" Her voice was getting louder with every word and Mickey put a finger to his mouth motioning for her to be quiet. "I'll talk as loud as I fucking want!" She was basically screaming, and Mickey pointed to a passed out Terry.

"Yeah? How do you think he'll like that!?"

Mandy instantly went quiet and then hugged Mickey tightly, to both of their surprise. "Sorry, I was just worried." 

"It's whatever, I'm fine."

"Where do you work anyway? Zoey at the place dad wanted you to go said you never came in." 

Mickey's mouth dropped open and he realized he forgot to have a backup plan, sure he could lie to his dad, but not Mandy. "Um." He scratched his head and walked towards his room without saying anything else.

"Hey!" Mandy whisper-shouted at him and grabbed his arm before he could shut the door. "What did you get yourself into, I swear to god-"

"A strip club."

"What?" Mandy eyes looked like they were about to fall out of her head, and she put a hand over her mouth to drown out the laughter.

"I work at a fucking strip club and if you say a word about it to anyone I'm going to rip your tongue out of your head."

"Wow Mickey, how many hot girls are getting to touch your abs?" She laughed and Mickey almost laughed back in her face.

"Not many." 

She smiled and waved a goodnight and Mickey collapsed on his bed. He reached in his sweatpants pocket, and tried not to smile at the text from a number he was sure was Ian's.

**Ian: You get home safe?**

**Mickey: Yes sir**

**Ian: Sir? I like that.**

Mickey groaned and planned on hitting Ian for that one tomorrow.

**Mickey: Don't get used to it. See you tomorrow.**

**Ian: Goodnight.**

Mickey tried to stop smiling before he went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading I'll try to update soon school is starting and I have summer homework + other things to do!
> 
> follow me on tumblr if you wanna 
> 
> http://mickeyshands.tumblr.com/


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I have a couple of things to say hello!!  
> First: I started school and I've had a hard time trying to write this because I've had writers block and this chapter just feels so messy. I apologize for the messiness of this story I am cleaning it up I swear
> 
> SECOND and most important: I was going to have Ian be bipolar in this story, I did have him show some signs of it I guess. But I feel like I do not know enough about it, and I have not had any personal experience from it. I don't think I'll be able to represent it in a way that's correct, and that doesn't make people feel uncomfortable. I'm sorry if that makes this story confusing, and I will probably go back and change the parts that I was going to have lead up to him being bipolar. Sorry, and thank you for understanding xx

Ian had sent Mickey a stupid good morning text and Mickey didn’t answer, obviously. Well at least not right away.

“Someone has a girlfriend.” Mandy teased trying to read the message Mickey had been staring at for a good ten minutes.

“Fuck off,” Mickey grumbled. He hastily shut off his phone and shoved it into his jeans pocket. 

“When can I meet her?”

Mickey rolled his eyes and tried not to sigh too heavily. “Never, there is no girl.”

“Oh, please.” Mandy laughed and tried to grab Mickey’s phone out of his pocket. “I saw the way you checked your phone right away this morning.”

Mickey grabbed a slice of toast off the table, and headed toward the front door. “I’ll see you when I get home from work.” He said, the toast in his mouth muffling the words.

“Have fun stripping.” Mandy called, and Mickey almost laughed out loud when he was a few feet away from the house. 

 

Mickey spent the beginning of the day at an abandoned playground, the sound of the rickety swing set was the only thing keeping him company. Texting Ian was weird. He knew Ian was confident and flirtatious with him, but over text it was so much more noticeable. 

**Ian:** I keep thinking about grinding on you, it was hot.

And Mickey honestly didn’t know how to answer that. He never wanted to be one of those people who thought about all the possible ways to respond to one thing, and have it take him three hours to respond. But here we are. 

**Ian:** I’m at the club already if you want to hang? See you. x

Obviously Mickey wanted to be with him, and of course he didn’t run to the club. He walked, very, very briskly. 

He didn’t really have friends besides the random guys he talked to at work. Being at home was terrifying, and drinking alone at a bar was miserable. Mickey had spent most of his life hanging with randoms, and dudes that would give him a handjob in an alleyway. And it was dumb, but being at the club he felt like he belonged somewhere. He wasn’t the only terrified kid in the closet, and it was almost comforting to know that.

Ian was standing outside the brick building smoking, and looking so fucking good.

“Gallagher.” Mickey nodded in his direction before taking the cigarette out of the red heads mouth. 

Ian pouted and tried to grab it back, but it was useless because Mickey already had it up to his lips. “You know cigarettes are expensive these days, and I’d appreciate it if you gave that back to me.”

“Hey.” Mickey held up a hand stopping Ian from coming any closer. “Let’s just say I owe you one.” 

“The way I seem to remember the last couple of days, I think you owe me quite a bit.” 

Mickey scoffed and tried to act like that didn’t hurt as much as it did. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Gallagher.”

Ian laughed and quickly grabbed the cigarette hanging out the side of Mickey’s mouth. He smirked before slyly taking a drag. “If we’re gonna skip the emotional bullshit as you seem to like to do, I did and am still helping you learn the ins and outs of this shit hole.” 

“I would do fine on my own, thanks.” Mickey grumbled as he fiercely made eye contact with the cement under his feet.

“Oh please.” Ian chuckled as he threw the cigarette into the trash bin beside them. “You asked me to train you, remember that?”

Mickey was sure he was blushing and he tried his hardest to focus on anything but the unstoppable color flooding his cheeks. “You looked like you knew what you were doing.” 

Ian took a step closer to him so Mickey could feel his breath on his face, it smelled like mint and smoke, and he stopped himself from trying to inhale as much as he could. “Trust me, I do.” 

“Fuck off.” Mickey said as he shoved Ian away from him and stormed into the club. Ian followed behind like a lost puppy, softly grabbing onto Mickey’s wrist before he could get very far. “Ian.” Mickey turned around to face him, and Ian smiled at the use of his first name.

“If you can go tonight, working as a dancer without help from me, then you win.” 

“Win what?”

Ian smirked and pulled Mickey in closer by his hips, and Mickey wanted to push him off, he did. But Ian’s fingers felt like fire and it was the best kind of burning sensation, and he couldn’t seem to make himself move. “You’ll just have to wait and see, yeah?” 

“That’s a challenge then?” 

 

Mickey was fucked. He was shaking with nerves and his head was starting to spin. It was the busiest night he had worked so far, and he could feel so many eyes on his dick outlined through his tight spandex. 

Ian had said he couldn’t dance with a shirt on, and Mickey spent half an hour trying to convince him otherwise. He was getting ready to leave, fuck getting money, fuck spending time with Ian, fuck everything he could not do this.

“Mick?” Ian called into the locker room where Mickey had decided to hide out. “Are you okay? You don’t have to do this.” 

Mickey slid farther into the corner away from him, and tried to pull himself together.

“Seriously, you were doing fine just a couple of minutes ago! It gets easier.” 

“It gets fucking easier?” Mickey spat out the words that tasted disgusting in his mouth and slid down to the floor. 

Ian sighed heavily and sat down on the wooden bench in front of the lockers. “Why are you acting like this is such a big deal, huh?” 

“I’m not!” Mickey yelled and it made the pain in his throat resurface.

“Stop yelling, jesus.” Ian rubbed his forehead where he could feel a headache start to form.

Mickey ran a hand through his hair before standing and joining Ian on the bench. He faced away from him out of embarrassment and whispered, “I hate my body, fuck, you happy?” 

Ian felt himself go to mush at the words, and he wanted to smother the brown haired boy in a hug. “No.” He said quietly. He pulled on Mickey’s arm to turn him so they could face each other properly. “That’s not what I wanted to hear.” 

“Shut up.” Mickey grumbled.

“Your body is great Mickey, you have really nice legs.”

“Shut _up_.” Mickey pleaded and hid his face into his hands. “It’s fucking nothing compared to yours.” 

Ian gently reached out and touched Mickey’s collar bone, he traced his fingers all the way down his chest and over his abs, memorizing the feeling. “I don’t really understand what you could hate.”

“I have to get back out there.” Mickey said biting his lip to stop himself from gasping at the touch of Ian’s cold fingers on his skin.

“Okay.” Ian said, but didn’t take his hand off Mickey’s chest. 

“Seriously, I have to go.” Mickey pleaded hoping Ian would get up first because he couldn’t make himself move.

“Okay.” Ian whispered so it was barley audible, and Mickey knew Ian was going to do something, and he froze. 

_Stop it. _He screamed inside his head. _Don’t let him kiss you, you can’t let him kiss you._ But Ian’s fingers on his side made a chill run up his spine, and it was a mixture of pure ice and a wonderful warmth he didn’t want to ever let go of.__

__“Don’t touch me.” Mickey coughed out and fell over himself standing up to get away from the other boy. “I’m going to wear a shirt and work at the fucking bar again, okay? You win, Gallagher.”_ _

__Ian quickly dropped his hand to his side. He wanted to grab at the little extra cloth on Mickey’s shorts and pull him closer, but Mickey had already walked out the door._ _

__He took a deep breath before following the brown haired boy into the noisy club, he was standing with a tray of drinks pretending to be interested to what someone was saying. Ian felt sick with jealousy, Mickey didn’t even pretend to be interested in what he had to say._ _

__Ian brushed past him making sure Mickey felt his arm touch his back before he stepped up onto the dancing platform. He tried to ignore Mickey’s eyes lingering on him while he danced, like he wasn’t doing this solely for him._ _

__He ran his hands over his body, down his chest, slowly across his stomach and back up to his neck. The music set the pace, he was rocking his hips back and forth, body rolling every chance he got, because he knew Mickey loved it. Every move he made was for Mickey, and after twenty minutes he jumped down off the platform and wrapped his feather boa around the guy in front of him before walking away._ _

__“Quite a show.” Mickey said as he handed Ian a glass._ _

__Ian sniffed the clear liquid before drinking it, which made Mickey snort. “It’s just water, Gallagher.”_ _

__“Was for you.” Ian said wiping his mouth after chugging the glass of water._ _

__“You sniffed the water-”_ _

__“Fuck, you _idiot._ ” Ian laughed handing the glass back to Mickey as he stopped in front of him. “That ‘show’ you’re referring to? Yeah, I did that for you.” _ _

__Mickey had to physically strain himself to keep his mouth from dropping open in surprise. “And why would you do that?”_ _

__“I want your attention, like the kind you give to the customers, like you give to anyone besides me.”_ _

__Mickey was sure his eyes bulged out of his head and fell onto the floor right then. He bit on the his pointer finger to keep from laughing too loudly in the red heads face, his eyes were literally laying on the ground and he was a bubbling mess. “Ian,” He shook his head completely dumbfounded. “The attention you’re referring to, that I give to the shitty people that come here, is fake. If you honestly think that not every ounce of my thoughts and attention aren’t on you, you’re the fucking idiot._ _

__“Last night? When we were dancing on each, fuck, Ian! When you carried me back to your fucking house? No one does that shit for me, no one tries to get me to take my shirt off and dance in front of old men. You do, and I don’t know fucking why, but you do, and you make me want to. You make me fucking want to!”_ _

__“I make you want to take your shirt off for old men?” Ian said with the biggest grin that made Mickey’s stomach knot and he wanted to slap it off of him, or like, kiss it off of him._ _

__“You dick.”_ _

__“You said it!”_ _

__“Whatever, dick face. I’m going to go give someone a lap dance.” Mickey said trying to avoid any further confrontation on his feelings._ _

__Ian grabbed his wrist quickly before he took a step to leave. “I’ll help you.”_ _

__Mickey scoffed tugging his wrist out of Ian’s grip. “Help me what?”_ _

__“I’m supposed to be training you in, Jonathan’s paying me extra to do so.”_ _

__“Congrats.” Mickey rolled his eyes over-dramatically before he began to walk away._ _

__“Mickey, fuck.” Ian yelled as he caught up to him, he grabbed his wrist once again, his grip tighter than the last time. “Let me help you.”_ _

__“You really need to stop grabbing my wrist.”_ _

__Ian’s face went soft immediately, and he began apologetically rubbing Mickey’s wrist with his thumb and forefinger. “Sorry, am I hurting you?”_ _

__“Ian, fuck.” Mickey sighed and rubbed his forehead with the hand not being massaged by Ian's fingers. “Fine, help me give someone a lap dance.”_ _

__Ian happily dragged him over to a table filled with rich looking men dressed in new suits and fancy shoes._ _

__“Hey boys.” One of them said as he downed what looked like his eighth shot of vodka. “How much for a dance from both of you.”_ _

__Ian looked at Mickey and smirked before answering the man. “twenty bucks each, for both of us at the same time that would be forty dollars.”_ _

__The man raised an eyebrow at all of the men sitting around him. “You have enough time to give us each one?”_ _

__Mickey almost choked on his own spit from the offer. He quickly counted the men sitting around the table, there was six. He would end up with a ton of cash from tonight, and so would Ian._ _

__Ian shrugged and looked at Mickey to make sure he was okay. Mickey nodded, trying to stay cool._ _

__

__Mickey quickly realized Ian was right, he did need help. He didn’t know how to be sexy, how to move his body as well as Ian. They’d probably ask him to leave before he even finished the first one._ _

__The man slid a twenty dollar bill into each of their shorts, and put his arms behind his head waiting for one of them to do something._ _

__Ian straddled his left leg, and Mickey guessed he was supposed to do the same on his right leg. He looked at Ian for conformation, and like he could read his mind, Ian nodded._ _

__Mickey hesitantly straddled the mans leg. The fabric of his pants felt unfamiliar on his legs, and he followed Ian’s movement grinding into him and changing the speed every couple of seconds._ _

__The man had one hand on each of their hips, and Mickey had to strain himself not to flinch away._ _

__He kept looking at Ian to see what he was doing, Ian was whispering in the mans ear and Mickey wanted to do the same, but he had no clue what he was supposed to say._ _

__Mickey kept grinding into his leg sometimes fast, sometimes slow, and he made sure to make eye contact._ _

__“Newbies getting a bit turned on.” The man said to Ian, and Mickey became conscious of his quickly growing boner. He looked at Ian helplessly who just smiled stupidly at him._ _

__The song ended and Ian slid off the mans leg, listening to something he whispered to him before he moved on to the next customer._ _

__“Mickey.” Ian said motioning for Mickey to stand up and follow him a few steps away._ _

__“I did shitty, didn’t I?” Mickey groaned when the table of men were out of earshot. “I barley fucking moved, you were right.”_ _

__Ian laughed and grabbed him by the shoulders. “He liked it, he liked that you were like, innocently lost. And like,” Ian motioned down to Mickey’s shorts and his obvious boner._ _

__Mickey softly punched Ian in the stomach. “What the fuck, that’s fucking weird.” He mumbled trying to think of a way to cover himself._ _

__“Talk to them, ask them about their day or something.”_ _

__“About their fucking day? It was probably pretty shitty if they’re here.”_ _

__“Mickey, just ask them questions! When they respond just seductively say, yeah?”_ _

__“Yeah?” Mickey said trying to sound seductive and Ian broke out in a grin._ _

__“Yeah.”_ _

__So they walked back to the table, and Ian cleared his throat loudly over the music. “Sorry, no more both of us at the same time.” He said faking the sorry tone in his voice. “Newbie here has to practice doing this alone.”_ _

__They all nodded, falling over every word Ian said. Mickey straddled a blonde man at the end of the table when a new song started. The blonde eagerly grabbed onto Mickey’s hips as he started grinding down on him._ _

__Mickey leaned toward him reluctantly, and whispered “What’s your name?” In his ear._ _

__The blonde smiled and replied, “Kyle.”_ _

__And Mickey was stuck after that, so he did the best he could and replied, “Yeah?”_ _

__Kyle smirked and moved his hands up and down the sides of Mickey’s body. Mickey shivered and turned around, leaning his head back like the movement was orgasmic. Kyle slid the twenty into the front of Mickey’s shorts, which Mickey nodded a thanks to before turning around to straddle him once again._ _

__“You’re good at this.” The blonde breathed into Mickey’s ear. He held his fingers up right in front of Mickey’s face, in-between his thumb and index finger was a white pill. Mickey’s mind raced back to when Ian gave him the lecture on drugs, and he panicked._ _

__He turned his face away, but Kyle turned his chin back to face him. “Come on, newbie. It’ll be fun. We can get into my car together after and go on a long drive.”_ _

__“My shifts not over for a while.” Mickey shrugged apologetically._ _

__“I’ll pay you five hundred.”_ _

__Mickey gulped and glanced at the pill in his hand, and turned his head to face Ian who was whispering something in a very excited looking grandpa’s ear._ _

__“Red head doesn’t have to find out.”_ _

__“What is it?” Mickey asked about the drug, and Kyle shook his head in amusement._ _

__“Most boys here just take it without question, you’re different.”_ _

__“Whatever.” Mickey mumbled but opened his mouth for Kyle to gently put the pill on his tongue._ _

__He swallowed it right as the song ended, and he continued on with the rest of the men at the table._ _

__

__“Mickey, are you fucking high?” Ian asked when they were back in the locker room changing into their normal clothes._ _

__“What?” Mickey asked innocently as he slipped on a gray hoodie._ _

__“You are! Fuck what did you take, fuck, I told you not to take any shit!”_ _

__“Ian.” Mickey put a finger up to Ian’s mouth to silence him. “I told you, I’m not high.”_ _

__Ian looked at Mickey’s finger and quickly swatted it away. “No, you didn’t, who gave it to you I’m going to fucking kill him.”_ _

__“Settle down rumble puss.” Mickey laughed and sat down on the bench between the two sets of lockers. “We made so much money tonight.”_ _

__“You can’t go home like this, you might pass out on the way!” Ian was pacing back and forth with his pair of jeans hanging unzipped on his waist._ _

__“Ian, calm-”_ _

__“You’re coming home with me tonight, no fucking questions, you could be in trouble, you could die, oh shit what if you _die!?_ ”_ _

__“Ian, I’m fine-”_ _

__“I’ll grab your bag come on.” Ian pulled at Mickey’s wrist dragging him out the back door behind him, and Mickey was too tired to try to object._ _

__“I have to tell my sister I’m not coming home, I don’t want her to get worried.” He mumbled, barley audible, before he passed out._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my tumblr
> 
> you know
> 
> if you wanna talk 
> 
> http://mickeyshands.tumblr.com/


	6. Chapter 6

Mickey wished it was the strong smell of eggs that woke him up, he hadn’t smelt good breakfast for as long as he could remember. He got some toast some mornings, that was okay, but he wanted pancakes, eggs, french toast, sausage. But it was the sound of yelling, a million footsteps, and “Ian, is that your boyfriend!?” That he woke up to. 

Mickey felt like shit. He remembered Gallagher dragging him home last night after he took whatever drug, and every memory of the night before came rushing back. “Fuck.” He mumbled as he rubbed his forehead and sat up. 

“Are you Mickey?” A wide-eyed red head sitting at the end of the bed questioned as he sat up.

Mickey was on the verge of pissing himself at the sight of her. As he tried his best not to choke on the air around him, he coughed out a, “Who the fuck are you?” 

“Debbie, Ian’s sister,” She said. Debbie tilted her head to the side and examined Mickey’s face like he was a fish in a tank. “He told me to come make sure you were waking up okay, and not dead or something.” 

Mickey squeezed his eyes shut, and looked up again to make sure she was still sitting there and not a hallucination. 

“We kinda met before, you were here that one night.” Debbie rambled making a swatting motion with her hand like the memory was a fly that she didn't want near her. 

“Yeah.” Mickey said quietly, he slowly laid himself back down on the pillow, maybe if he just didn’t open his eyes he could go back to sleep.

“Fiona is making pancakes, Lip is making bacon, and I’m making some eggs. If you want some we’ll be downstairs.” Debbie said informatively before she got off the bed and left. The bed made a creaking sound when she got up, and it elicited a groan from Mickey. 

The first time he was here he left in an angry rage, how much would Ian hate him if he did it again? 

“Hey,” A low voice spoke from the front of the door, and Mickey tried sinking farther into the bed so maybe Ian wouldn’t be able to see him. “You feeling okay? You knocked out pretty hard last night.”

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” Mickey spoke into the fabric of the pillow. The bed sank down when Ian sat down at the end of it, and Mickey awkwardly sat up to face him. “You didn’t have to do that for me,” Mickey sighed as he picked at his fingernails. “I really owe you like a million favors, dude.” 

“Yeah, you do.” Ian laughed and reached for Mickey’s leg, and he smiled slightly even when Mickey tried hitting his hand away. “But I wasn’t going to leave you at a club, high and on the verge of passing out. You would have done the same for me.” 

Mickey swallowed harshly, and nodded. He would have, wouldn’t he? He didn’t deserve how highly Ian thought of him, when he had to debate if he would leave Ian at a club passed out. But there’s a loud voice filling his head screaming, “You would never leave him there! You asshole, you know better than that.” And he decides to trust his inner monologue.

“So, are you going to come and eat breakfast with us? I had Debbie set a spot for you.”

“Uh..” Mickey’s voice trailed and he scratched at his head, trying to think of a way to decline the offer so he could get home before Mandy killed him. “You know..” 

“The offer is no longer a question, it’s a command. Come on.” Ian jumped off the bed and pulled Mickey out of it with him. Mickey stumbled over his feet and ran into Ian’s chest making both of them run into the wall. 

“You’re so clumsy.” Ian said holding onto Mickey’s shoulder for support.

“I wouldn’t have been if you didn’t try dragging me out of the fucking bed, you idiot!” 

Ian smirked and grabbed Mickey’s hand, which Mickey quickly shook off him. “You think we’re boyfriend and girlfriend or something?” Mickey felt like sinking back into the pillows when he realized he had raised his voice too loud. He mentally slapped himself for making Ian’s confident face break for more than a second. “I’ll be right down, I have to text my sister.” He mumbled before reaching for his pants on the floor of Ian’s room, where his phone was in the back pocket. 

He typed, **Crashed at my friends house.. see u later today?** And sent it to Mandy, ignoring all the messages she had sent him last night to make him feel less shitty. 

“So we’re friends then, huh?” Ian said smugly as he looked over Mickey’s shoulder.

“The fuck, man?” Mickey said throwing his phone on the bed clumsily. “Thought you went downstairs.” 

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“We established that, okay? Jesus.” Mickey muttered and pushed Ian out of the way so he could walk back into the hallway, trying to locate the stairs. 

“Fine, fine.” Ian laughed and motioned for Mickey to follow him downstairs into the kitchen. 

The warming noise of people laughing and talking didn't die down even a little when they walked into the kitchen, Ian held his hand out for Mickey to grab, and Mickey tried his best to pretend he didn’t see it. 

“Look who’s up!” Fiona smiled as she poured more batter onto a frying pan. 

Mickey faked a smile, and tried his best not to look completely overwhelmed. Breakfast wasn't loud at Mickey’s house, breakfast wasn't a family thing except on dreadful coincidences. Sometimes breakfast was stealing from the convince store down the street because his dad got his ass thrown in jail again.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs for what seemed like forever until Debbie walked up to him. “You can sit by me if you want.” She smiled lightly and grabbed ahold of Mickey’s wrist. He followed her awkwardly to the kitchen table, and sat in the seat next to her. 

In a matter of seconds all of the Gallaghers were seated at the table, all talking over each other and laughing. Mickey slowly ate his pancake and downed three cups of orange juice what he felt incredibly guilty for. 

“Mickey, are you still in school?” Debbie asked about ten minutes into breakfast. 

Everyone focused their attention on him, and he felt his chest get tight quickly. He poked at the last bite of his pancake as he cleared his throat. “Nope, dropped out two years ago.” 

They all nodded and continued eating, and Mickey let out a sigh of relief that they didn’t seem to be judging him. 

“I was just wondering, because I’m starting high school next year..” Debbie’s voice trailed and she sighed heavily before continuing. “I just need someone there with me so I don’t do stupid things.” 

Mickey laughed softly and shook his head. “I don’t think I’d be the right person to lead you away from stupid things.” 

“No, I think you would be.” Debbie said confidently. “You seem really protective, and like, Ian trusts you. So I do.” 

Mickey looked up from his plate to Ian, who was beaming like a fucking idiot. “Friends are supposed to trust each other, right?” He laughed awkwardly. Mickey stood up and pushed his chair in to somehow come across as not a total impolite asshole. 

He glanced at Lip who’s mouth was practically gaping open, and he tried to miss the look of hurt that flashed across Ian’s face at Mickey’s statement. He nodded a thanks at the rest of them before he ran up the stairs three at a time. 

He gathered his clothes into a pile, and it wasn't until he had them all in his arms that he realized he was wearing Ian’s clothes. “Fucking..” He gritted his teeth before stripping Ian’s shirt off, that was noticeably loose on him, and putting on his own. 

“Mick,” Ian whispered from the door frame. He was standing there with his arms crossed looking defeat and miserable. “Why one minute do you act like we could be something, and the next you make sure it’s clear to me and everyone who can here you that we are just friends?”

“When the fuck did I ever act like there could be something between us?” Mickey spat as he threw off Ian’s sweatpants.

“The first night you were here? You basically fell all over me! And nights at the club…”

“I am getting paid to do gay shit like grind on you, Gallagher. Don’t think you’re special.” 

Ian’s confident demeanor broke again, and he wanted to drown in his embarrassment. Before Mickey had time to react, Ian grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him forcefully up against the wall.

Mickey resembled a deer caught in the headlights, and it made Ian laugh under his breath. 

“What the fu-”

“Kiss me.” Ian breathed leaning closer to the shorter boys face.

Mickey’s eyes widened in shock and his shoulders dropped as he let go of the intensity of the fist he was going to hit Ian with. He couldn’t find words to reply with, and Ian waited patiently for him to form a sentence. Mickey stared up into the redheads eyes, and he wanted to be offended that he would even think for a second that Mickey would kiss him.

But Mickey wanted to kiss him, he wanted to kiss him a lot. Ian brought back all of the thoughts he had stored away in the back of his mind for no one to ever find. He made the self-hate lessen a little in the pit of his stomach. 

As Ian ran his thumb over Mickey’s jaw, he wanted to run, to push Ian out of the way and get out of Chicago for good.

“Please kiss me.” Ian whispered. Their noses touched, and Mickey could tell Ian was waiting for him to be ready.

Mickey looked around the room quickly, as if his demons were standing in the doorway waiting for a glimpse to tell his dad all about later. “Fuck.” He muttered before closing the last bit of space between them. 

He had never really kissed anyone before, he tried to imitate what he had seen in movies, or what he’d seen Mandy do when she kissed someone she was with. 

His hands ran along Ian’s jawline, absorbing the feeling of every part that he could. Ian’s arms were wrapped tightly around him, pulling him just a little bit closer every second. 

Mickey broke the kiss after a few seconds, and stared at the ground, not daring to meet the green eyes that stared down at him. 

“That was fucking amazing.”

“Don’t get your lace panties in a twist, Gallagher. It was alright.” 

Ian laughed loudly and shook his head in disbelief. “Someone must have kissed you like you hadn’t drank a thing in a year and their lips were a river.”

“Metaphors?” Mickey laughed sarcastically as he gathered up his bag at the end of Ian’s bed.

“Don’t do this.” Ian said softly, he put all of his strength into his words, forcing his voice not to break. “Don’t leave and act like this didn’t happen like you did the first time you were here.” 

“I’ll see you tonight.” Mickey grumbled before heading out the door with his excuse of an overnight bag slung over his shoulder.

“Mickey please.” Ian’s voice cracked that time and it makes Mickey stop for no more than a second before he does his best to ignore it. “Did I do something? Is this too fast for you? What is it? Is it me?” Ian questioned him as he followed him down the stairs and out the door. The cool air hits them hard, and Ian isn’t sure if the cold is worse than watching Mickey walk away.

“What did I do, Mick? Please can you-”

“Ian, shut-,” Mickey breathed heavily putting a hand up in front of Ian’s face to silence him. “Shut up, shut up.”

“Just tell me why.”

“I’m not fucking gay, man. I have the job at the club for money, and that’s it. Not to fucking shake my ass for old men for my own enjoyment.”

“Oh shut up.” Ian laughed and shoved Mickey back softly. “I don’t know if you know this, Milkovich.” Ian said putting the emphasis on the boys last name to mimic him. “There is not one straight man in that building, ever. If you wanted fucking money you’d be working at McDonalds or something.”

Mickey shoved Ian back a little harder. “Stop!” He shouted, he was forcefully biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep from crying. “I’m not gay.” He bit down even harder to keep his voice from cracking, and turned towards the sidewalk. “See you tonight.” 

“You can’t just kiss me and leave.” Ian said as he caught up with Mickey on the sidewalk, who was walking as fast he could. 

“It was just to see if I liked it.” 

“And did you?”

_I fucking loved it._ Mickey thought and pushed the thought so far out of his brain he hoped it shattered on the pavement. “Why are you following me, huh? Go home, Ian.” 

“Why can’t you just admit you care about me?” 

“See you tonight.” Mickey said before picking up the pace, and leaving a confused Ian standing behind him.

 

“Hey, Mick!” Mandy smiled when he walked angrily through the door. “Everything okay? I was worried last night.”

“Everything’s fine, Mandy.” Mickey sighed and threw off his shoes. “I got high or whatever, a coworker took me back to theirs.” 

“Was it the girl you like?” Mandy grinned and followed Mickey quickly into his room. “Your room smells like shit.” She coughed as they both walked in.

“No, I don’t like a fucking girl, fuck you.” 

“Woah, touchy subject, huh? What’d you do?” 

Mickey fell back on his bed and covered his face with his hands. He didn’t want to talk about it, he wanted to crawl into the covers and forget about the past couple of days completely.   
“I kissed them, and then I left.” 

“Well that’s not so bad.” Mandy sat down next to her brother and awkwardly put her hand on his thigh. 

“But I always leave after I start to act like their could be something, apparently. He hates me.”

Mickey felt all of the blood in his body suddenly drain out of him, he felt small, pale, and absolutely helpless, all because of a pronoun. He hadn’t meant to say it, obviously. He thought maybe if no one knew, he could pretend it hadn’t happened. That, yeah, it really was a girl, not Ian.

“He.” Mandy nodded. The way Mickey suddenly looked like a little boy who stole candy from his mom, made her say it calmly. “So he’s mad at you then?” 

Mickey looked up at her, surprised at the way she didn’t freak out, or laugh and walk away in disgust. “Yeah.” He whispered. “He’s pissed.”

“Why don’t you just apologize?”

“Because I’m not sure if I’m sorry or not.” 

“Well, don’t you like him?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Mickey.” Mandy said in the motherly voice that Mickey hated. “There’s nothing wrong with you liking boys.”

“Shut up, jesus Mandy.” Mickey sat up quickly to make sure that the door was shut. “Someone might hear you.” 

“Dad’s gone.” Mandy rolled her eyes. “And no one would tell him, surprisingly enough we don’t want you dead.” 

“Was that supposed to make me feel better.” He said dryly before standing up. He reached for random pieces of clothing strewn across the floor. “I’m going to work.”

“Oh yeah, the strip club.” Mandy pursed her lips to keep from smiling.

Mickey groaned internally, he really shouldn't of told her that part. “I’ll text you if I’m not coming home.”

“Okay, don’t get high again. Or do, but be safe, and like wear a condom. Or make sure they do, since you know.. You're such a power bottom, I see it.” 

“Mandy.” Mickey clenched his fists, and threw the restocked garbage clothes bag over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait!” Mandy shouted as Mickey was walking out the door. “It’s a gay strip club isn’t it oh my god!” 

“See you!” Mickey shouted holding his middle finger up in the air.

 

Mickey had grown accustom to the sound of music shaking his whole body, it almost was peaceful, he could be anyone he chose under the influence of the club music. Jonathan had told him since Ian was apparently showing up late, that he could do whatever he wanted until the idiot showed up. 

He had his sparkly spandex shorts on, that seemed to cling just a little tighter than he remembered. He was also dressed in Ian’s feather boa, and a pair of black combat boots. He felt really, really stupid. But all of the other guys in the locker room had prompted him to wear it, saying, who cares if you wear black and navy it’s dark and everyone will be focused on your ass. 

Which seemed to hold true, because everyone was focused on Mickey’s ass. He walked with all the confidence he could muster over to random tables, asking if anyone needed anything. And an “Alright, tell me if you need anything at all later, boys.” Followed by a wink, which he had been practicing in the bathroom mirror from time to time. Which, obviously, he would never admit to. 

“You still sure you aren’t gay?” Ian’s voice said over the sound of the blaring music. Mickey stopped in his tracks to turn around and face the taller boy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ian laughed bitterly as he grabbed onto the ends of Mickey’s feather boa tauntingly. “Really?”

“So wearing this makes me gay?”

“Yeah, so does working here, kissing me, getting hard over other men, those things make you at least not straight, dude.” 

“Why is it so important to you that I admit it?” Mickey felt like screaming and punching Ian in the jaw, only metaphorically, because he didn’t really want to hurt him. He hated himself for being so soft around Ian, he was supposed to be strong and punch people in the jaw when he needed to. Not worry about bruising their face because, well, they have a nice face. 

Ian sighed heavily, following the overdramatic gesture with an eye roll. “I just want you to accept yourself, I mean I would say you’re really far in the closet, but you’re here.” He gestures to the space around him with awkward hands. “Straight dudes don’t really come here. You are being utterly ridiculous, you are working as a stripper at a gay strip club, Mickey.”

“Technically I’ve never stripped off anything, Ian. Now if you’d excuse me I have to get back to work.” 

Ian grabbed tightly onto Mickey’s arm, and Mickey tried to get away from the familiar grip, but knew that there was no use. “Just admit it, you’re gay, and you like me.” 

“Can you just fuck off for like, one night? Leave me alone, jesus. I think I got the hang of the place, okay? I’ll tell you if I need anything, boss.” Mickey saluted towards Ian and walked away before Ian could say another word to him.

 

Ian stared in disbelief at Mickey’s back as he walked away. Maybe he was being too pushy about Mickey’s sexuality, if he didn’t want to talk about it or whatever, then he shouldn’t have to. Even though Ian really would like him to, at least mutter a, “Yeah I do really like you as much as you like me.” Just one, or eighty two times. 

He had enough of letting his coworker making him feel idiotic around him. So he did the only thing he knew for sure he was good at.

After he had changed into his work clothes, he stepped up on the dancing platform with a blank expression on his face, he knew they liked it better when there was no emotion.

He had on a tank top solely so he could strip it off while he was dancing. A new song started playing, and he turned towards where the tables were. 

This time he wasn’t doing it for Mickey to stare at him in awe, he was doing it for himself, to make himself feel better about who he was. If Mickey didn’t want him, there was plenty of people who could, and would. 

He ran his hands up under his tank top to the beat of the music, throwing his head back like it was the best feeling in the world. He slowly peeled off the see-through cloth covering his chest, and threw it on the ground next to him.

Ian held back a satisfied grin when he saw everyones eyes trained on him. . He didn’t scan the room for Mickey as he dug his fingers under his tight spandex. His mind was racing fast, he had never stripped completely as long as he had worked here. 

A couple of, “C’mon take it off!” Chants were heard from the crowd, and Ian’s vision started to blur when he slowly began to pull down the shorts covering what was left of him. 

He could barley get the tight shorts down his thighs when a hand gripped his ankle and pulled him off of the dancing platform. “What the fuc-” And then he saw Mickey, who had a worried look on his face that made Ian's heart melt.

“Jesus Christ, Ian!” Mickey shouted, he grabbed Ian’s tank-top from where Ian had thrown it, and shoved it into his chest. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Ian started at Mickey in amusement, and had to strain himself not to laugh in the brunette’s face. “It’s a strip club.” 

“One of those guys could have hurt you.” Mickey angrily pointed to the group of men who were starting at them with disapproving faces. He shoved Ian back softly, and held back the tears that he felt start to choke him. “Sorry I cared.”

“Oh, shut up.” Ian shoved Mickey back harder than he ever had before, it wasn’t playful, it was forceful. “I care about you, you run out of my house, scream at me that you’re not gay, and then you stop me from doing my job.”

“Don’t be fucking overdramatic.”

“Overdramatic? Fuck you. Why are you still working here, huh? Get the fuck out.” Ian shoved his way past Mickey to the men that were watching him before. “Anyone need a lap dance?” He shouted, just to make sure Mickey heard.

“Ian!” Mickey shouted over the music, but the younger boy didn’t look, he didn’t even flinch. “Ian!” Mickey raised his voice as loud as he could, and he was positive every eye was on him.

“I’m gay. Fuck you, I’m really fucking gay. Okay? You happy?” Every other head turned away like it was small talk, but Ian kept eye contact with him for what felt like forever.

The redhead walked back towards Mickey, and grabbed ahold of his hand. “Yeah.” Was all he said before he kissed him, making Mickey’s legs go weak.


End file.
